


it's dangerous to go alone

by valety



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Link, Crossover, Flavour Text Chara, Gen, POV Second Person, nonverbal link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 20:36:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9401975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valety/pseuds/valety
Summary: The Hero of Time falls and makes a friend.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I LOVE THE LEGEND OF ZELDA!!!! BREATH OF THE WILD’S GONNA BE GOOD!!!!!!
> 
> how the fuck do you even write link btw???? sorry if I messed up, I tried 
> 
> warnings for vague allusions to ptsd. it's not bad enough that it warrants a tag, but it's still there, so,,

You’ve had a lot of practice falling. You've fallen off of trees and cliffs and rooftops and even from Epona's back, back when you were first learning how to ride, and so you like to think you've gotten pretty good at it. You know by now just the way you're meant to land and how to keep your head tucked in and so you rarely ever black out anymore. But this time when you fall, you wake up at the bottom of a pit, lying on a patch of golden flowers, and you can't help but wonder how you could've gotten things so wrong.

Your head is spinning when you stand. You have no memory of the fall itself—you remember riding through the woods, looking for Navi, but everything else is blank.

You have to get yourself together, you decide. The pit you're in is dark enough to potentially be hiding anything. Any moment now, you could be attacked by something shambling and rotten and undead. You need to find your bearings; you need to be prepared.

You pull yourself upright, kneeling on the bed of flowers that somehow broke your fall, and start digging through your supplies. Your sword and shield are still hanging from your back, thank goodness, and in your bag you have your slingshot and some food. So far, so good.

Except you can't find your ocarina.

At first you think you've overlooked it, but then you're going through your bag for the fourth time in a row and you still can't find it. You empty out its contents, shifting through your food and money and supplies, but no matter how or where you look, you cannot find your instrument.

Your memory of falling had been foggy before, but gradually, you're starting to remember. You recall a boy in a mask, laughing at you as you fell, and... he took it, you think with a sudden flash of anger. He took the ocarina and Epona, and then he let you fall, and now you're all alone.

What are you supposed to _do?_ If your ocarina's gone, you can't go home. You can't play the songs that Zelda and Saria taught you. You can't soothe yourself to sleep or feel the cool ceramic underneath your fingers when you’re feeling anxious.

 _What do I do?_ you think again, but nobody answers you.

You're too big to cry, even if you _are_ all alone without your fairy or your horse, and so, with a final sniff, you wipe your eyes and begin to repack your bag. You still don't see your ocarina, but some tiny, desperate part of you thinks _maybe it wasn't stolen, maybe I just dropped it,_ and you start combing through the yellow flowers hopefully.

"There's nothing there," somebody says.

You freeze.

Navi's gone, you remind yourself.

"I guess you can't hear me," the voice sighs. "Whatever. At least I tried."

You slowly shake your head.

"Huh?"

A breeze blows past you, raising goosebumps on your arm.

 _"Can_ you hear me?"

You nod, just as slowly as before, ready to draw your sword if necessary. The voice doesn't sound particularly menacing, but you know enough by now to be more than a little wary of a voice you cannot see the source of.

"Relax, kid, I can't hurt you," the voice says, sounding almost amused. You feel another brush of wind, a breeze that wraps around you and plays with the tip of your cap. "You _are_ a kid, right? I can't really tell."

 _Are_ you? You're small again, but you've gone back and forth so many times that you're not really sure. You settle on a shrug.

The voice laughs. The sound is curiously distant, like the echoing of bells. "Yeah, I know the feeling. Say, how come you aren't talking? Are you shy? Or do you not know how?"

You shake your head. _That's not it,_ you want to say, but you know the voice won't hear you and Navi isn't there to help.

"Gimme a sec."

You feel a blast of frigid air, as cold as though you've plunged head-first into icy water. You gasp as the shock envelops you. Your vision goes completely white.

When you can see again, you’re not alone anymore. Someone stands across from you, seemingly growing from the shadows on the wall, intangible as fog. Despite this, they have a very definite shape—a child, tall and thin, with short, messy hair and bright red eyes that glow in the darkness.

"I wasn't sure if I could do it," the shadow says, sounding pleased with themselves. "Can you see me now?"

They must be some kind of spirit, you realize.

"Kinda?" the shadow replies.  

You yelp and leap backwards. The slash of the shadow’s mouth curves into a grin.

They can hear you, you think as your heart flutters, and the shadow says, "Yeah. I'm in your head now, sort of."

Like a fairy, you think, picturing Navi sleeping in your hat.

The spirit giggles. " _Exactly_ like a fairy!" they say, and they curl in even closer, moving like a wisp of smoke. You fall still as they poke at your ears. Their fingers pass straight through the tips, feeling like a burst of ice. "You're not human, are you?" the spirit asks.

You’re Hylian. Does that count?

"Close enough," the spirit says as they run a ghostly fingertip along the point of your ear. "You're probably all right if you could hear me even before I latched onto you. You must have a little magic in you."

You think of fire sent from Din and arrows made of light. That magic hadn’t really been yours, though; you’d only borrowed it, and now that you’re young again, you can’t reach it anymore. But maybe the memory of using it is enough?

Either way, the spirit doesn’t seem to mind.

"My name is Chara," the spirit says, bounding back in front of you and giving yet another grin. But now the grin appears a little strained, and their face begins to shift, as though an invisible hand is passing through the smoke that is their body and scattering their features. They grow a little longer, their teeth a little sharper, and their eyes turn black as they say, "I'm a demon. Isn't that scary?" 

You frown. You don't know much about demons, but you can't sense any kind of evil aura from this spirit.  As long as they don't come at you with grasping, rotting hands or paralysing shrieks, you don’t think you much care _what_ they are.

Their shape begins to right itself. "You're not scared," the spirit says almost mournfully. “That’s no fun.”

You’re pretty used to monsters, you guess.  

"You know about monsters?" the spirit cries, expression brightening. They give an excited little spin, sending another rush of chilly air towards you. "I _love_ monsters! There are all kinds down here…I can tell you all about them!”  

You finally relax your stance. The way the spirit smiles now, it's hard to think that they could possibly intend to hurt you. Besides, even if they wanted to, you doubt your sword would do much good against an incorporeal foe. No point in staying unnecessarily tense.

As the spirit chatters, you glimpse what appears to be a long, dark tunnel behind them. If that's where you need to go next, you wish you had a torch with you. Oh well, nothing you can do about that. Maybe you can find something to light a fire with a little further in.

“You need to go?” the spirit asks, falling still.

You nod. They give no further indication that they have anything more to say, and so you give a slight wave of farewell and begin to walk, footsteps crunching on the dying grass and leaves. But then you feel a weight clinging to your shadow, and when you look behind you, you see the spirit trailing after you, looking wistful.

"I guess I should leave you alone now," they say. "I'm sorry. It's just been a really long time since I've had anyone to talk to."

It might be your imagination, but you think that you can almost see a little sadness in their hollow eyes.

Well. It's been an awful long time since you've had company.

The spirit instantly perks up. They'd been fading moments ago, vanishing like dust on a breeze, but now they snap themselves together into something almost solid, the gaps in their form knitting together like flesh over a wound. "You need my help, of course," the spirit—Chara?—crows as they glide over to your side. "I know _all_ about the Underground. Ask me anything, I can help."

You feel the weight of them sinking down fully into your shadow, filling in the holes you hadn't even known were there, and you think, _my name is Link._

"Hello, Link!" Chara giggles, and you find yourself smiling for the first time since you'd fallen.

They cling to the shadows on the walls as you trek through the tunnel. In the darkness, you can only see the gleaming of their eyes and teeth. It seems to make the darkness feel a little friendlier, especially because they fill the silence with their questions. 

"What were you looking for before?" they ask.

Your ocarina, you explain. You think somebody took it.

"An ocarina?" they repeat, sounding surprised. "I've never known a person who could play an ocarina before. I've always wanted to know what they sound like. They come up a lot in fantasy novels.”

You’ll play for them when you get it back, you resolve, and you see their eyes flash red with what you think might be pleasure. And although your hand still feels empty without your instrument, the thought of finding it again and playing for this friendly spirit fills you with courage.

You walk together in silence for quite some time. You'd been prepared to fight, but you've yet to see another living thing at all. Maybe this place won’t be as much trouble as you feared.

And then a golden flower pops out of the ground.

"Hi!" the flower chirps. "I'm Flowey! Flowey the flower."

"What the fuck," Chara says.

 _What is this?_ you think, taking a wary step backwards. 

"Don't look at _me,_ I've never seen anything like this before,” they say. You feel them glide behind you, peering at the flower from over your shoulder. "That thing is creepy.”

You don't break eye contact with the flower. You won't give it an opportunity to strike.

"You're new to the Underground, aren'tcha?" the flower sing-songs. "Somebody ought to— _whoa_ there!"

You swing your blade and the flower disappears into the grass, popping out again a little further back.

"What're you doing, silly?" the flower asks, smile widening. "I'm not your enemy! I'm your friend! Your _best_ friend, if you want! Don't you wanna be my friend?"

You shiver. Unlike Chara, this thing's definitely malicious.

"Tell it no," Chara hisses.

Can't it hear them?

"I'm in _your_ head now. Nobody else can hear me."

You slowly and deliberately shake your head, keeping up your sword and shield.

The flower's smile falters slightly. "I don't think you know what you're saying!" it chirps, voice still sickeningly sweet. "You just don't know how _nice_ it is to be my friend! Let me show you how friendly I can be!"

Every single pellet the flower fires bounces off your shield with a metallic _ping._

By now, the flower's scowling. "Listen, kid," it snaps. "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but— _hey!"_ Once again it pops into the ground to dodge your strike, reappearing a little further back. "Stop swinging that thing around! Don't you know dangerous that is?!"

You don't lower your blade, and the flower's face contorts, twisting into a vicious parody of a smile. _"I_ see how it is," it sneers. "You don't want friends at all, do you? You just want to fight! You've killed before, and now you want to kill again. You think I can’t smell it on you? You think I can’t _tell?”_

And its face shifts back, once again becoming that perfect, saccharine grin as it adds, "Well, it's not like I can blame you—go ahead and swing that sword at everyone you meet! _Make_ the Underground go empty! We'll see what happens then!"

It gives a final wink, and then it vanishes, cackling.

This time, it doesn't reappear.

"Well, that was weird," Chara mutters. "Let's keep going."

You walk in silence, Chara trailing from behind.

"Have you really killed before?" they ask abruptly.

You shrug.

"What was it like?"

You don't reply, and Chara asks no further questions.  

Gradually the darkness melts away, revealing vine-covered ruins made of crumbling stone. As the darkness fades, you feel yourself finally begin to get your bearings. Ruins, at least, are something you know how to deal with.

"There'll be puzzles in here," Chara says. In the light, you can make out what appears to be the memory of a green and yellow sweater clinging to their ghostly form. "They shouldn't be too hard. I can help you with them, if you want. Just let me know if you need advice.”

You don't need their help. The puzzles you encounter are all simple switch ones and it takes no time at all for you to make your way past them with your practiced hands and eyes at work.

"You're good," Chara notes at one point, sounding impressed, and you can't help but feel a little pleased.

You begin to hum as you explore, miming the necessary fingering as you peer around each corner and crunch your way through every pile of leaves. At one point, Chara starts to hum along.  "[That song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nmB9LsIozSQ) is pretty catchy,” they say appreciatively.

Your friend wrote it, you explain, and Chara nods and keeps on humming.

You can't help but feel a pang at the memory of Saria. She'd been so sad to see you go, and now you couldn't play her song to hear her voice again even if you wanted to.  

While lost in thought, something leaps out at you. You yelp.

"You sure do scream a lot for someone who can’t talk,” Chara says, drifting forward to get a better look at the creature. "It’s a froggit. Life is difficult for this enemy. No need to make it worse by yelling.”

The froggit croaks, staring at you with large, vacant eyes. It seems unhappy, you think, as though it's expecting you to do something. You can't imagine what, though.

"You probably don't need to fight it," Chara says after a moment. "I mean, if you wanted to, sure. But it probably won't hurt you. I think you can leave it alone."

It would be a waste of strength to fight something as small as this. You start to walk away. But then the froggit once again hops in your path, croaking insistently.

"Try threatening it," Chara suggests. "If it's scared it'll go away."

That would be cowardly.

"Then flatter it, I dunno,” Chara snaps, and they turn their back on you, apparently done with offering suggestions.

The froggit croaks once more, and suddenly you remember standing on a log in Zora's River, playing music for a small ensemble. Frogs like to sing, you recall.

 "Uh," Chara says.

You once again begin to hum, a little louder than before, now. The froggit croaks happily, hopping up and down in rhythm as you do.

After going through the song once more, the froggit ribbits happily and hops away.

"That was kinda cute," Chara concedes as they drift a little bit ahead of you. "Kudos, I guess."

Maybe it's a little silly, but you can't help but feel even more pleased with yourself than before. You’ve rarely met monsters capable of discussing things peacefully. If creatures here can be appeased through something as simple as music, then maybe you won't have that much trouble getting home after all, with or without your ocarina.

Towards the end of the ruins sits a building so grand that you think it must be a temple. Chara calls it _cute._

"This is the end of the ruins," they say as you approach it. "To leave the Underground, you'll need to get by here."

You don't know what to expect when you enter. Columns, maybe. Ancient tapestries and statues befitting of a place so obviously sacred as this, the lone building in the ruins. Instead you find a house, decorated in a comfortably modest fashion; shelves of books, potted plants, pictures hanging on the walls. Nobody appears to be home, and so you immediately approach the nearest pot and begin to dig around inside.

"What are you doing?" Chara asks, sounding both amused and a little bit annoyed. The leaves of the plant rustle from their movement. "We can't waste time. We need to hurry up and get downstairs."

Downstairs? you think, pausing in your explorations.

"There should be a way out of the ruins downstairs," they say, and you follow their ghostly finger to where it’s pointing towards a blocked-off stairway. They curl around you, plucking at your tunic insistently, and add, “We can't stay here. We'll get caught."

Their face begins to shift, features melting and drifting apart as though they can’t be bothered to maintain a proper shape in their current state of impatience. And maybe you should be alarmed by their alarm, but you’d still like to gather supplies if you can—there could be money or medicine stashed away somewhere, after all, and you haven't lived this long by not checking every single nook and cranny for things you could potentially use.

"Come _on!"_ Chara snaps, the edges of their form fraying even further. "I don't want to stay here, we need to—”

Somewhere, a door opens and shuts. You feel Chara instantly retreat into the furthest corner of your shadow, almost vanishing completely.

"And who might you be?" someone asks.

You turn around. Before you stands a strange, long-eared person almost the size of a Goron, dressed in purple robes and with the kindest eyes you've ever seen.

You open your mouth to try and answer their question—someone this imposing demands an answer—but your voice fails you.

They bend their knees slightly, leaning closer, and you take an involuntary step backwards.

"My child," the person says, and her voice is just as gentle as the rest of her. Already you feel soothed. "How did you come to be here?"

Still you cannot speak. But you feel a tendril of something cold reaching out through you, and from your mouth, someone else's voice says, "I fell."

The woman smiles, then, standing up and taking your hand in hers. "Poor dear," she clucks. "You have done very well so far, making it this far on your own. But you are safe now, and you can rest. I am Toriel, caretaker of the ruins."

"My name is Link," Chara says through you, and with your hand still in hers, the woman leads you down the hallway.

“That is a very nice name,” Toriel observes, and you do your best to channel gratitude through whatever bond you and Chara apparently now share. Chara seems to be ignoring you, though; not only can you not see them, you can barely feel them. Their absence is like a boulder walling off a portion of your consciousness, but you’re too dazed to think to ask them why they’re hiding.

The bedroom the woman leads you to is so large and fully-furnished that it first brings to mind a castle or a mansion, despite not being nearly as austere as you’d have imagined either one normally being. It’s filled with toys and pictures and furniture that seems well-loved, if not necessarily brand-new, and when she says, “This can be your bedroom”, you scarcely hear her, too absorbed are you in running your fingers over dusty surfaces and prodding tidy rows of toys.

You next open up the dresser, finding rows upon rows of differently-sized striped shirts inside, all of which seem almost identical to Chara’s, save for the plethora of colour. At Toriel’s encouragement, you obligingly pull a white and blue one over your head, but you have to take it off a moment later: it’s too itchy, for one, but it also feels wrong to not be wearing the clothing you have worn for your entire life.

You’re so distracted by the luxuries present in the room that you don’t think to protest when Toriel leans over and gentle unhooks your scabbard from your belt, saying, “I shall hold onto this for you. A child as young as yourself should not be carrying such a dangerous tool.” 

“Are you okay with that?” Chara asks. But before you can reply, Toriel adds, “If there is anything you require, please do not hesitate to let me know. I want you to be happy here.”

There’s nothing you can think of. You might actually require _less._ You have no idea what to do with so many toys and so much clothing, and so you decide to simply nod. It seems like the safest possible response.

Toriel smiles and her eyes seem to grow quite bright for a moment. But before you can attempt to ask if she’s all right, she steps forward and sweeps you up into a bone-crushing hug, taking you by surprise.

“I am _so_ glad you are here,” she whispers. “You are the first human to come here in a long, long time. I shall take good care of you, I swear.”

She lets you go, smoothing down your hair one final time, and then she hurries out of the bedroom, leaving you to stand confused amid the luxury.

Now that you’re alone, you find that being overwhelmed is actually exhausting. You take a seat on the edge of the bed, but you guess you must have been even more tired than you’d first thought; you fall asleep almost immediately, not even taking off your belt or boots or cap beforehand.

You awaken only when Chara whistles in your ear. The shrill sound feels like a nail being driven directly through your sensitive ears and you almost roll off of the bed in surprise. It’s only Chara's shriek of “Don’t, there’s pie down there!” that makes you catch yourself in time to keep from landing on the dessert.

“So what’s the plan?” Chara asks as you lick your fingers after finishing the slice. It was a bit richer than you’d like, but you’re not one to turn down free food.

Your plan is the same as it always is; evaluate your surroundings and figure out the best course of action from there.

Chara seems dissatisfied with this, but you ignore them and spend the rest of the day overturning the entire house, continuing the rummage you’d begun before Toriel’s interruption, digging through drawers and pots and accidentally tipping over two separate vases full of cattails.

“What are you even _looking_ for?” Chara asks irritably as you hurriedly stuff the cattails back into their vase.

You shrug. There’s nothing you have in mind, but experience has taught you to leave no stone unturned when you find yourself in a new location.

“I see you are a curious one,” Toriel says with some amusement when she catches you peering into the cold box in the kitchen. There’s food inside, as well as a slab of something dark and shiny that made Chara once again retreat into your shadow. “That is a good thing. It is the curious children who are the greatest pleasure to teach. This may come as a surprise to you, actually, but I have always wanted to be a teacher.”

You stare. Toriel’s smile turns rueful. “Perhaps that isn’t very surprising,” she says, leaning forward to shut the door of the cold box for you. “But as you are so curious…if you desire it, I can prepare a curriculum for your education. I would love to be able to teach you everything about your new home. In fact—” and here she smiles ruefully once more. “I may have already begun the preparations.”

Despite her embarrassment, she looks so pleased, so hopeful, that you can’t help but nod. And it’s such a _comfortable_ idea, really—staying where there is no danger and with one who is so eager to teach you and take care of you. A part of you sincerely wants to play along, despite not really understanding what it could be that Toriel even wants to teach you.

But another part of you knows you must be going soon.

It’s the knowledge that you really should be going that sours what would otherwise have been an almost heavenly few days. It bleeds into everything, staining whatever pleasure you might have otherwise had from listening to Toriel’s lectures and trying to remember the kinds of games you played when you were truly young.

Chara remains largely dormant during this time, although you feel their continued dissatisfaction as keenly as you would your own. They say nothing, but it’s clear that they want out; except for when Toriel asks you a question that requires speech, they seem to almost be hiding from her, saying nothing to you and keeping their presence as small as possible in general. They only seem to wake up on the day you decide to try exploring the yard beyond Toriel’s house.

There’s little to see, unfortunately. There are barren trees and heaps of dying leaves, under which you find nothing more exciting than snails and small, fairy-like creatures who weep when you so much as look at them. Beyond the yard you find only the ruined corridor through which you’d made your way here in the first place, and you wonder at first if perhaps this is where the underground ends and if you might need to leave by climbing back out of the hole through which you’d fallen. But then you find the balcony that overlooks the spires of a distant, shadow-draped city, and you find yourself standing on your tiptoes to peer out as far over the edge as possible, wondering how you might get there.

“That city’s basically been abandoned,” Chara comments. “You won’t find anything there. You’d need to go further in to find an exit.”

It’s the first thing they’ve really said to you in days, but the information is too intriguing for you to dwell upon their broken silence very long. You wonder how you’d get further in.

“I told you on the first day,” Chara says, sounding bored. “There should be a way out of the ruins downstairs.”

You think back to that blocked-off staircase. Toriel had forbidden you from using it, but if that’s the exit, then—  

It’s as though thinking of Toriel is all it takes to summon her, for it’s not long afterwards that she appears on the balcony, looking alarmed. Her expression eases once she sees you and she presses a hand to her chest with a sigh. _“There_ you are. I was so worried!” she says, placing a hand on your shoulders and beginning to steer you back towards the house. “Please do not worry me like that again, child.”

With Chara’s voice you ask, “How do I leave the ruins?”

Toriel’s grip tightens. She doesn’t slow down, nor does she turn to face you, only says, “Would you like to help me prepare dinner? I dug up some lovely vegetables today. You may help me wash and peel them for our stew.”

Your stomach grumbles and Chara whispers, “Don’t let food distract you. You want to leave, don’t you?”

“I saw the city,” you say, once more in a voice that’s not your own. “How do I get there?”

“You do not want to go there.” Toriel says, calmly but firmly. She leads you up the front steps and opens the door, gently pushing you into the foyer. “There is nothing there. We have everything we need right here.”

You fall silent.

Chara does as well.

The evening passes quietly, but you can’t shake the feeling that, like all of the good, comfortable periods in your life, your time with Toriel may be coming to an unexpected end.

 

 

* * *

 

 

That night, you toss and turn.

You do not want to leave.

You _have_ to leave.

It's been so long since you’ve felt like a child, safe and cared for.

But people need you, and Navi and Epona are still out there.

Your _ocarina_ is still out there.

You tell Chara, and Chara only grins. It’s a cold, cold grin.

"This is why I said to hurry," they say.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The next day, you awaken with a newfound resolve.

You know now that asking Toriel how to leave will do no good; she’ll just avoid the subject. But if she’s the caretaker of the ruins, then she must have knowledge of the exit, even if it’s knowledge she won’t share. If that staircase has been sealed off since your arrival, then that will be your best bet. There must be a key somewhere, likely either on her person or in her bedroom. You’d rather not fight her if necessary, but…

“She won’t have it on her,” Chara whispers from your shoulder while you’re mulling things over at breakfast. “She’ll have it hidden somewhere. She won’t want to carry the reminder with her.”

You nod, imperceptibly (you hope), and decide to wait for an opportunity.

Your opportunity comes around noon when you find Toriel in the kitchen, flipping through a cookbook. When she sees you, she pauses to smile and asks, “What would you like for dinner?”

Food is the furthest thing from your mind, actually, but you accept the book anyway, feigning thoughtfulness as you turn over the pages and try and remember what’s currently in the cupboards. Then, stopping on the recipe you need, you point.

“Snail pie?” Toriel reads. “Oh my…you know, it has been quite some time since I have been able to enjoy a nice snail pie. I am afraid I do not have any snails, however.”

You do your best to look dejected. Not despairing, necessarily, but certainly sad enough to move someone as softhearted as Toriel. Sure enough, a moment later she’s saying, “But perhaps I can find some more in the garden. Would you like to help me?”

She looks surprised when you shake your head, but doesn’t press you any further. A few minutes later, Toriel is stepping out, a basket on her arm, leaving you to sit at the dining room table and nibble an almond cookie from a flower-patterned cookie jar. The second you hear the familiar _click_ of the front door falling shut, you’re on your feet, and then you’re quickly making your way down the hall and towards Toriel’s bedroom.

“That was clever,” Chara says approvingly. “I think trickery is probably the best possible use for snail pie. It’s not like anyone would ever willingly _eat_ it.”

Snail pie actually sounds kind of good, you think mournfully as you slip through the doorway, and Chara shudders. 

On Toriel’s desk you find a diary filled with writing in a language you can’t read and which Chara refuses to translate for you. “It’s too horrible,” they say, but they do so with an attitude of exaggerated disgust rather than fear, and so you shrug and replace the book, thinking that whatever it is, at least it doesn’t seem to have anything to do with the key.

In her drawers you find clothing and a satchel filled with what appears to be dried flower petals and a kind of powder, but still no key. At that point, Chara says, “Wait a minute.”

They float up to the top of the dresser. Their expression briefly lights up, but then they reach out and drift back down to where you’re standing, a scowl on their face. “The key’s up there,” they report. “But my stupid ghost hands can’t hold it. You need to get up there some—oh, geez.”

Already you’re pushing the light on Toriel’s dresser aside so that you can climb on top of it, using the drawer handles as footholds. Your position atop the creaking wood feels somewhat precarious, and Chara floats beside you as though prepared to try and catch you should you fall, but atop the dresser you spot your sword as well as the key and you grab them both eagerly.

Standing on the dresser wouldn’t have necessary if you’d just been a little taller, you think irritably as you hop back down, but that doesn’t matter. You have the key in hand, so that’s that. You can unlock the barrier now.

“You’re pretty resourceful,” Chara says approvingly as you’re fumbling with the padlock shortly afterwards, scabbard once more hanging from your belt. “That’s a good trait to have. It means the odds of you actually surviving down here just skyrocketed.”

You don’t reply, not even to ask why they seem to think the odds of you dying among the monsters they so love are so unnervingly high. Instead you set the key down on a nearby low bookshelf—you have no further use for it—and begin to make your way down the forbidden stairs.  

The staircase dips into shadows alarmingly quickly. No torches hang from the walls to illuminate your path, forcing you to feel along the wall to keep yourself steady while Chara warns you of any change in elevation so you don’t accidentally trip. The passage at the bottom is just as dark and you half expect a beast to leap out at you as you carefully begin to make your way down its length. You keep one hand on the wall and one on the hilt of your sword, taking ginger steps even as the door at the end gradually comes into view. There are no monsters in sight, but you don’t want to risk stepping on a wrong panel and triggering any traps.

“This might actually work,” Chara murmurs, face going in and out of focus as you hurry towards the doorway looming in the distance, trying to ignore the musty smell that means this hallway has gone unused for a long, long time. “I can’t believe you actually—”

_“Link.”_

Chara halts. You ignore the voice and continue moving forward, but then a wall of fire erupts before you, making you jump. Heart still stuttering, you turn around, and then you are face to face with Toriel.  

“You would run away,” she says, voice trembling. “Without saying goodbye? Without one single solitary word of farewell?”

She takes a step forward, but you no longer have any room to back away, not with the wall of flame behind you. Perhaps you could have taken a running leap through it if it were normal fire, but you can feel how solid the magic is even from a distance. You’re forced to face Toriel head on, doing your best to remain unflinching despite the sorrow in her eyes.

“It was fortunate that I returned early,” she says, an undercurrent of anger cutting through her voice. “Otherwise I might not have made it here in time. But I am here now, and so I must tell you to please go back upstairs.”

Hand still on your hilt, you slowly shake your head.

“You naïve child,” Toriel murmurs, eyes narrowing, expression hard. “If you leave the ruins…they…Asgore…will kill you. I am only protecting you, do you understand? Beyond that door lies danger. Here, with me, it is safe.”

The name ‘Asgore’ sends a thrill of something that might have been fear up your spine. Even so, you refuse to look away. You refuse to even blink.

Beside you, Chara is silent, hovering anxiously as they watch the proceedings. That’s how you know they must truly be worried about whatever’s about to happen. You may have only known them for a few days, but it seems to you that they only become curt and silent when they’re distressed in some way. The opposite of you, maybe. 

Toriel’s expression hardens further, becoming something like a glare as raises her two palms, flames alight on each. "You want to leave so badly?" she demands. "Hmph. You are just like the others."

You already have your sword in hand. You know what has to follow, even as you feel Chara shudder through the bond.

They’re not the only one, you think bitterly. The thought of having to fight such an inglorious, unnecessary battle exhausts you. You have fought and you have fought and you have fought, and you are _tired._ Were it not for your missing friend and stolen ocarina, you might have simply given in and stayed where you could pretend to be a child.

But you know that's not an option.

"There is only one solution," Toriel continues, echoing your thoughts. Her voice is colder than you have heard in all the days you’ve been here. "Prove yourself... prove to me you are strong enough to survive."

And the flames descend.

She begins with a volley of magical fire, a sweeping arc that you just barely manage to avoid in time.

"I didn't want this to happen," Chara says as you raise your shield and try to find an opening to attack amid the flames. "I'm sorry. But I guess there's no choice."

So they were expecting this, then.

"I knew she wouldn't let you go," Chara corrects. "I mean, she knows best for you. Or that's what she thinks, anyway. She’s not just another grown-up—she’s a _mom.”_

But how does Chara even know her? 

"We all have stuff we don't wanna talk about, buddy," Chara answers, drifting away and forcing you to return your attention to the battle. But a part of you wishes they that hadn’t; the fire has become overwhelming and you can't get close. All you can hope to do to dodge.

"What exactly are you doing?" Toriel demands, watching as you roll out of the way yet again. "You cannot hide forever. You must attack or run away."

She's right, you think, panting. You can't keep ducking and dodging and flipping. It's exhausting, and your child body has much lower stamina than you’ve grown accustomed to. You'll wear yourself out like this without having made even a single dent.

But do you _want_ to make a dent? You want to leave, of course, but Toriel had made it sound as though she expects you to kill her in order to progress, and you don’t think you can do _that._ It’s not like she’s a creature of darkness; she’s just a _person._ A misguided person, sure, but a well-intentioned one.

If you have no other choice, though—

 _You've killed before,_ the flower said.

You grit your teeth and swing.

You think of the froggit that you hummed with.

You miss.

Toriel scoffs. Another wave of fire crashes down upon you. You just barely manage to roll out of the way.

You don’t want to fight her, you think almost desperately once you’ve dragged yourself back up onto your feet. You don’t. You _don’t._

"You have to," Chara says. "Sometimes you don't have a choice."

But she doesn’t want to hurt you.

"She is literally doing nothing but hurt you right now."

You can—  

"If you want to leave, then _fight!"_ Chara shouts, and when they whip around to face you, they are teeth and hollow eyes and melting skin, shredded fragments of the memory of whoever it was they used to be, whether it was a child, a monster, or a demon, a writhing mass of shadows and fog and pain. "I _tried_ to get you out of here before it came to this, but _you didn't listen_ and _now_ we have no choice, not unless you think hugging and kissing and playing nice _now_ will cut it!”

In that moment, you understand.

 _I don't want to stay here,_ Chara had said. They had known that it would come to this, and they hadn’t wanted you to fight her either.

That means this battle—if it can even be called a battle, when both participants are so half-hearted—nobody present wants it to occur.

The revelation crashes upon you like a tidal wave, with such force that for a moment you fear that it will drag you under. But then, your head is clear. And then, you do the single most foolish thing you’ve ever done in your entire life—the one thing you had never thought that you would ever do.

You let go of your sword, and it falls to the ground with a clatter.

"What are you doing?" Toriel demands, staring at the place on the ground where it fell. "Attack or run away!"

You begin to approach. She doesn’t move, but her face becomes less sure, and the flames begin to waver. And then you are standing before her, staring up at her in a silent plea. And then you are wrapping your arms around her, as tightly as you can with your child’s arms. And then the fire that surrounds you splutters out completely, leaving only the faintest smell of smoke behind.

The fire disappears, and she slowly slips her arms around you in return.

“Pathetic, is it not?” Toriel asks once even the smoke has disappeared and you are left with only the two of you in one another’s arms. “I cannot save even a single child.”

You say nothing. To even try would be to spoil the illusion of a normal life that even a brief embrace like this provides. 

“But I understand,” she continues, voice gentle; resigned. “You would just be unhappy trapped down here. The ruins are very small once you get used to them.”

Chara lingers on the edge of the hug. Something unfamiliar bleeds into you through the bond, making you cling to Toriel even more desperately. For some reason, you don’t want to let go.

“I have seen how restless you have been growing,” Toriel continues, still softly, softly. “There is something you are looking for, and you will not find it here. And so…” The faintest of squeezes, nothing like that bone-crushing hug from the day you met her. “My expectations… my loneliness… my fear… for you, my child, I will put them aside.”

She lets you go, then, drawing back so she can stand. But although she is the one who pulls away first, you feel as though it’s you who’s somehow let go of something important.  

But that is nothing new, you suppose. There have been many things that you have had to say goodbye to.

“If you truly wish to leave the ruins… I will not stop you.” Toriel says. “However, when you leave… please do not come back. I hope you understand.”

You nod. You understand.

“Before you go,” she adds, and she bends to collect your sword from where it fell. It seems so small in her hands, a child’s toy, but even so, she hands it to you with something like respect. “It is unsafe to venture out unaccompanied. Take this. That way, I will know you can defend yourself should the need arise. Still, I… I hope you will not have to use it.”

Her mouth is quivering. Your heart is quivering as well. But you take the sword, hand closing around the handle almost instinctively, the way you might take a friend’s hand before letting them lead you away.

“I won’t be alone,” you say in a voice that’s entirely your own.

It’s the closest you can come to promising to leave your sword sheathed as long as possible.

Toriel smiles, lips still trembling, and says, “Goodbye, my child.”

She turns away before her tears begin to fall. You turn away as well and don’t look back. You instead walk forward, making no further goodbyes and trying not to think about the comfort you’re leaving behind.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It takes Chara several minutes to remanifest.

“I hate her,” they say when they do, falling into place beside you.

Their voice is rough.

If they’d wanted to stay behind with her, they could have.

“Don’t be dumb. I just said I hate her, didn’t I? Besides, _some_ one needs to keep you out of trouble. Although… I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help back there,” they add, sounding embarrassed. “I really thought your only options were to either trick her or fight through it.”

You’re not sure how to say that those have been your only options for a long, long time; that it’s a relief to have been able to make it past Toriel without having resorted to violence yet again. And even if Chara couldn’t offer much advice during the fight itself, their company has still been comforting—of all the enemies you’ve ever had to face, you’d say that loneliness has been the worst, and it’s something that only becomes harder to bear the longer you’re made to endure it. To have somebody with you is like carrying a little piece of home with you. So long as you’re not alone, it doesn’t seem to matter as much that you still don’t entirely know where you belong.

You’re not sure how to say any of that. But you feel it very, very hard, and a spectral finger twists in your hair almost affectionately.

That is when the golden flower from before once again pops out of the ground.

“Clever. Verrrryyy clever,” the flower says with a wry expression. “You think you’re really smart, don’t you? So you were able to play by your own rules. You spared the life of a single person.” It chuckles, and much to your displeasure, its laugh reminds you of Mido. “I bet you feel really great. You didn’t kill anybody this time. But what will you do if—”

“Tell it to fuck off,” Chara says.

“Fuck off,” you say with your newfound voice. You have no idea what the word means, but it seems to be effective, as the flower’s jaw—if it could even be said to have a jaw—falls open in apparent shock and its eyes bug out of their sockets.

“Well, aren’t _you_ a rude one!” the flower snarls, leaves bristling. “I’ve been nothing but _sweet_ and _kind_ and _caring_ to you, so _thoughtfully_ looking out for your welfare, and _this_ is the thanks I get? I oughta tear you to pieces right here and now, you little—”

You lunge forward, swinging your blade. The flower shrieks, and then it’s gone, having burrowed back into the dirt. It doesn’t return, and you re-sheathe your sword, all while Chara cackles.

If you had been alone, you think, you might have actually listened to whatever it was the flower had to say. You might have let it get to you and bring your progress to a halt yet again.

You can’t help but feel, even more strongly than before, that you’re glad that Chara’s with you.  

“Aw, shucks,” Chara says, floating before you and twirling idly as they bat their eyelashes. Their face has begun to melt again, eyes becoming black, dripping pools of…ink, you think. “You sap.”

You feel a pulse of happiness fed to you through the bond, and whatever else the Underground has waiting for you, at least you’ve gained back one thing that you’d thought you’d lost—a friend.

You smile, and Chara smiles back, and together, you move forward and out of the ruins.


End file.
